Here Goes Nothing
Here Goes Nothing
by: gottalovev
Rating: PG
Word count: 1330
Note: after months of reading, this is my first fic. I hope you guys like it :)
When Rodney gets to the armory, he has to step aside as four determined marines in full gear get out and almost trample him, walking briskly towards the gate room. Glancing inside, Rodney notes that it leaves only John in the room: perfect. There's no going back, then, so Rodney takes a big breath and he's talking even before he crosses the door's threshold. Here goes nothing.
"Okay, good, this is just going to take a minute and you can be on your merry way to rescue Lorne from the centaur-like people, who are even freakier than I first thought because logic would make them vegetarians, right? Since they're part horse?"
John doesn't even turn as he finishes gearing up but Rodney can feel the eye roll anyway.
"By the way," Rodney continues, "I don't know why you need to go there yourself apart from your hero-slash-suicidal-complex mixed to the default imperative to never leave anyone behind, which, hey, is a great philosophy whenever I'm concerned but there's like a horde of marines going already, do you..."
This time John cuts him off, shooting him an annoyed glare. Right, wrong thing to say. But Rodney babbles when he's nervous, he can't help it.
"Rodney, I don't have time for this."
John says it while strapping briskly his thigh holster, which momentarily derails Rodney. It should not be that hot. When John adds a big knife in his boot, Rodney despairs a little bit more because it should not turn him on either. He's so cliché with the military fetish, and totally screwed. But he has a point to make.
"I didn't mean... of course we've got to get Lorne back! Well the whole team, but you can't help it, right? You can never pass an occasion to put your life on the line when there's potential for big-ass explosions!"
Pointing his finger at Rodney as if acknowledging him the point, John grabs a couple more hand grenades to put in his tac vest and smirks a little.
"What can I say, I've always loved fireworks." He drawls, turning this into a joke as always.
Exasperated, Rodney walks up to him and pushes John in the middle of the chest - vest whatever - making him clang his back against the shelf when John stumbles a bit backward in surprise. Rodney stays right there in front of him, determined to have all of his attention until the end.
"It's dangerous, John. Don't pretend it's not."
Visibly mollified by the use of his first name and probably by the worry written all over Rodney's face, John's smile turns softer.
"It's going to be okay. We follow the plan: in and out and we're back for lunch. Easy."
The worst thing is that John's totally convinced he's telling the truth. Even if he's conscious of the danger - because John no doubt thought of every scenario complete with contingency plans - he dismisses the horrible ways it could go so very wrong, preferring to focus on the positive. Rodney can't. And what if it goes FUBAR, and there are no higher powers watching over kamikaze Colonels today? Then Rodney will never have acted on his completely inappropriate feelings and will drag that regret to his deathbed. Taking a deep breath, Rodney gathers all of his courage and blurts:
"Please don't die."
Then he leans up a bit and kisses John right on the mouth. Rodney's so nervous, he can't even enjoy it properly, doesn't dare to make it last more than a second and when he pulls back he has time to see how round John's eyes are before he bolts for the door, fleeing as fast as he can. Objective: the transporter and then evading maneuvers for the foreseeable future.
Rodney's covering quite a lot of ground and thinks he might make it when he hears John yell "Rodney!". He winces and there is the unmistakable sound of stomping boots closing down fast on him. Starting to run away would be undignified, and anyway it's too late because John's already there and sort of slams him against the corridor's wall where Rodney connects with a squeak. Look at that, John looks oh so pissed. Ooops.
"What THE FUCK was that?" John almost spits in outrage, and Rodney's such a sick man that it makes a shiver of arousal go down his spine. He can only do his best impression of a fish out of the water as John looms threateningly. Doesn't matter much, though, because John's on a roll. "What the hell are you thinking? I'm going on an important mission, you son of a bitch, how am I supposed to keep my head in the game now, huh?"
Ah, well, Rodney had not factored that in at all. He might have fucked up a bit and made his, hum, Declaration Of Interest totally counterproductive.
"Oh. Right. Sorry."
"Sorry? God." John huffs, as if he has to suffer through the worst inequities because of Rodney all the time. His face then gets serious. "When I get back you better not be hiding or I'll make Her find you and lock you up wherever you are until I get there. We have to talk about this."
That's it, then, no punch to the face but Rodney will get the "You're a great guy, but I don't like you that way." speech that he knows by heart now. For a brief instant pain stabs him sharp and clear in the heart. It's ingrained that Rodney lashes back with sarcasm as he straightens up, squaring his shoulders.
"Don't bother, Colonel. I get it, consider me being let down gently and I'll even say that yes, yes we can still be friends although I think I'd rather not hang out in the near future, if that's okay with you, I don't take --" and there is John's hand on his mouth, as he looms even closer. Weirdly John doesn't look relieved at all to be spared of the awkward discussion, just a bit more pissed.
"Shut up. I don't have time for this, McKay. Not right now. But just so we're clear..."
John takes his hand away and before Rodney can even protest at being shut up by force, John is kissing him forcefully, demanding access to Rodney's mouth who gives in immediately to the invasion of tongue and... holy shit, he's being kissed within an inch of his life here. It's hot and fierce and mind blowing in all the good ways. John's got a death grip on his neck and his right shoulder, pressed up as close as he can with a P-90 uncomfortably crushed between them and all Rodney can do is hold on to John's upper arms as his knees want to give out. After a quite thorough exploration of Rodney's mouth, John pulls away and Rodney slowly blinks his eyes open to find John looking at his handiwork with a satisfied smirk. He might try the cooler-than-you expression but John's reddened lips, blown pupils and the light flush he's got right now tell Rodney he's not the only one affected.
"Now you try to work and see how it goes." John says with an evil smile. As if right on cue, Rodney hears a click and a tiny voice coming from John's ear piece, which he taps. "I'm on my way right now, prepare to dial."
John leans for a quick peck and a soft "See you when I get back." whispered against Rodney's lips. Then he's gone, running for the gate room as Rodney's still trying to get the speech portion of his brain back online.
**
Predictably, Rodney's concentration is shot to hell the whole time John goes special OP to rescue Lorne and his team. Oh, and if the tally in his head proves he spends 72.5% more time thinking of that last kiss than about the toe curling one that came before, it doesn't prove he's a 13 year old girl in disguise. Not at all.
Right?
by: gottalovev
Rating: PG
Word count: 1330
Note: after months of reading, this is my first fic. I hope you guys like it :)
When Rodney gets to the armory, he has to step aside as four determined marines in full gear get out and almost trample him, walking briskly towards the gate room. Glancing inside, Rodney notes that it leaves only John in the room: perfect. There's no going back, then, so Rodney takes a big breath and he's talking even before he crosses the door's threshold. Here goes nothing.
"Okay, good, this is just going to take a minute and you can be on your merry way to rescue Lorne from the centaur-like people, who are even freakier than I first thought because logic would make them vegetarians, right? Since they're part horse?"
John doesn't even turn as he finishes gearing up but Rodney can feel the eye roll anyway.
"By the way," Rodney continues, "I don't know why you need to go there yourself apart from your hero-slash-suicidal-complex mixed to the default imperative to never leave anyone behind, which, hey, is a great philosophy whenever I'm concerned but there's like a horde of marines going already, do you..."
This time John cuts him off, shooting him an annoyed glare. Right, wrong thing to say. But Rodney babbles when he's nervous, he can't help it.
"Rodney, I don't have time for this."
John says it while strapping briskly his thigh holster, which momentarily derails Rodney. It should not be that hot. When John adds a big knife in his boot, Rodney despairs a little bit more because it should not turn him on either. He's so cliché with the military fetish, and totally screwed. But he has a point to make.
"I didn't mean... of course we've got to get Lorne back! Well the whole team, but you can't help it, right? You can never pass an occasion to put your life on the line when there's potential for big-ass explosions!"
Pointing his finger at Rodney as if acknowledging him the point, John grabs a couple more hand grenades to put in his tac vest and smirks a little.
"What can I say, I've always loved fireworks." He drawls, turning this into a joke as always.
Exasperated, Rodney walks up to him and pushes John in the middle of the chest - vest whatever - making him clang his back against the shelf when John stumbles a bit backward in surprise. Rodney stays right there in front of him, determined to have all of his attention until the end.
"It's dangerous, John. Don't pretend it's not."
Visibly mollified by the use of his first name and probably by the worry written all over Rodney's face, John's smile turns softer.
"It's going to be okay. We follow the plan: in and out and we're back for lunch. Easy."
The worst thing is that John's totally convinced he's telling the truth. Even if he's conscious of the danger - because John no doubt thought of every scenario complete with contingency plans - he dismisses the horrible ways it could go so very wrong, preferring to focus on the positive. Rodney can't. And what if it goes FUBAR, and there are no higher powers watching over kamikaze Colonels today? Then Rodney will never have acted on his completely inappropriate feelings and will drag that regret to his deathbed. Taking a deep breath, Rodney gathers all of his courage and blurts:
"Please don't die."
Then he leans up a bit and kisses John right on the mouth. Rodney's so nervous, he can't even enjoy it properly, doesn't dare to make it last more than a second and when he pulls back he has time to see how round John's eyes are before he bolts for the door, fleeing as fast as he can. Objective: the transporter and then evading maneuvers for the foreseeable future.
Rodney's covering quite a lot of ground and thinks he might make it when he hears John yell "Rodney!". He winces and there is the unmistakable sound of stomping boots closing down fast on him. Starting to run away would be undignified, and anyway it's too late because John's already there and sort of slams him against the corridor's wall where Rodney connects with a squeak. Look at that, John looks oh so pissed. Ooops.
"What THE FUCK was that?" John almost spits in outrage, and Rodney's such a sick man that it makes a shiver of arousal go down his spine. He can only do his best impression of a fish out of the water as John looms threateningly. Doesn't matter much, though, because John's on a roll. "What the hell are you thinking? I'm going on an important mission, you son of a bitch, how am I supposed to keep my head in the game now, huh?"
Ah, well, Rodney had not factored that in at all. He might have fucked up a bit and made his, hum, Declaration Of Interest totally counterproductive.
"Oh. Right. Sorry."
"Sorry? God." John huffs, as if he has to suffer through the worst inequities because of Rodney all the time. His face then gets serious. "When I get back you better not be hiding or I'll make Her find you and lock you up wherever you are until I get there. We have to talk about this."
That's it, then, no punch to the face but Rodney will get the "You're a great guy, but I don't like you that way." speech that he knows by heart now. For a brief instant pain stabs him sharp and clear in the heart. It's ingrained that Rodney lashes back with sarcasm as he straightens up, squaring his shoulders.
"Don't bother, Colonel. I get it, consider me being let down gently and I'll even say that yes, yes we can still be friends although I think I'd rather not hang out in the near future, if that's okay with you, I don't take --" and there is John's hand on his mouth, as he looms even closer. Weirdly John doesn't look relieved at all to be spared of the awkward discussion, just a bit more pissed.
"Shut up. I don't have time for this, McKay. Not right now. But just so we're clear..."
John takes his hand away and before Rodney can even protest at being shut up by force, John is kissing him forcefully, demanding access to Rodney's mouth who gives in immediately to the invasion of tongue and... holy shit, he's being kissed within an inch of his life here. It's hot and fierce and mind blowing in all the good ways. John's got a death grip on his neck and his right shoulder, pressed up as close as he can with a P-90 uncomfortably crushed between them and all Rodney can do is hold on to John's upper arms as his knees want to give out. After a quite thorough exploration of Rodney's mouth, John pulls away and Rodney slowly blinks his eyes open to find John looking at his handiwork with a satisfied smirk. He might try the cooler-than-you expression but John's reddened lips, blown pupils and the light flush he's got right now tell Rodney he's not the only one affected.
"Now you try to work and see how it goes." John says with an evil smile. As if right on cue, Rodney hears a click and a tiny voice coming from John's ear piece, which he taps. "I'm on my way right now, prepare to dial."
John leans for a quick peck and a soft "See you when I get back." whispered against Rodney's lips. Then he's gone, running for the gate room as Rodney's still trying to get the speech portion of his brain back online.
**
Predictably, Rodney's concentration is shot to hell the whole time John goes special OP to rescue Lorne and his team. Oh, and if the tally in his head proves he spends 72.5% more time thinking of that last kiss than about the toe curling one that came before, it doesn't prove he's a 13 year old girl in disguise. Not at all.
Right?